


#28: 	Be mindful of what comes between you and the Earth. Always buy good shoes, tires, and sheets.

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: 100 Rules for Adults (That Clint Barton Never Learned) [28]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint learns to be a grownup, Gen, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Shoe Shopping, Shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint finds himself in a(nother) position he's never been in before; he needs to buy running shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#28: 	Be mindful of what comes between you and the Earth. Always buy good shoes, tires, and sheets.

“Aw, shoes, no,” Clint muttered, looking at what had previously been a well-worn pair of running shoes, but were, at the moment, doing great impressions of puppets with the toe separated from the soles. He turned the shoes over in his hands, sat on the bench in the training room locker room. With a sigh, he chucked them back into his locker and tugged his boots back on. They would have do for the moment.

Later that afternoon, Clint, dressed in his usual cargo pants, black t-shirt, and combat boots (though not visibly armed) found himself lost and bewildered by the selection of available footwear at the shop that was supposed to specialize in outfitting runners. 

See, Clint had never purchased his first set of shoes. They’d been part of his training gear when he’d first been recruited to SHIELD. Sure, he could tell they were wearing out, but since they’d been perfectly useable, he hadn’t complained or requisitioned a new set. 

Now, though, that he had to replace them, he was overwhelmed by the possibilities. 

So, Clint did the only thing he could think of; he called Coulson.

“Barton, how the hell have you managed to get yourself in trouble in less than an hour of checking off base?” his handler asked in lieu of a greeting. 

“Uhm,” Clint said articulately, taken aback by the greeting. “I can call back, sir?” he offered.

The sound of a sigh carried down the line. “What do you need, Barton?” Coulson asked. 

“Shoes,” Clint answered promptly. “Help. I mean,” he paused, taking a breath. “I need to buy running shoes and I’m…lost.”

“Physically or emotionally?” Coulson asked, and Clint could hear rapid typing and the sound of desk doors sliding closed.

“I’m at the store,” Clint said instead of admitting that he was overwhelmed by the options.

“Hang tight,” Coulson said after confirming his location. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Clint slipped his phone back into his pocket and continued wandering around the store, taking in the options. Though it was early afternoon on a weekday, the store was fairly busy, and no one had approached Clint to offer him help. He called it progress that he hadn’t just grabbed something in his size and called it a win, but instead called for help from someone who had to know what they were doing.

True to his word, Coulson arrived less than ten minutes later, still in his suit and tie from the briefing that morning. If Clint hadn’t trained side by side with the man (and fought, as well), he wouldn’t have believed that he had any business walking into the shoe store. “You know,” Coulson said as he approached, “this wasn’t what I was expecting when you requested leave for the afternoon.”

“No?” Clint asked, curious. 

Coulson shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t go out much. It’s…been discussed.”

Clint fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. Coulson quirked one side of his mouth in a half-smile. 

“So, yeah, kind of overwhelmed here,” Clint said, quickly pulling the conversation away from wherever it had been going.

Coulson nodded. “Not interested in a straight replacement of your last set?” he asked, leading the way toward a wall of shoes. 

“My last set came from stores,” Clint said.

“How long have you be requisitioning through SHIELD? You get an allowance for training gear, you know,” Coulson said.

“I just had the one pair,” Clint said, nearly running into Coulson’s back, the other man stopped so abruptly.

“You run at least five miles a day,” Coulson said slowly. “You’ve been with SHIELD for three years now. How…Barton, how do your feet not look like ground hamburger?” Coulson demanded.

Clint shrugged. “They hadn’t fallen apart, so…”

“Barton,” Coulson said, his forehead doing that scrunchy frowny thing that Clint hadn’t quite learned to interpret yet. “We’re going to find you a pair of shoes that you actually like, not that come from stores and are meant to be replaced as soon as you start drawing regular pay,” he explained. “Then, we’re going to set up a reminder in your calendar for six months out to have them checked for replacement, and that’s probably pushing it for someone who trains as hard as you do,” Coulson said, turning back to the wall of shoes.

Clint blinked at his handler. He was going to have to do this every six months? “Sir…”

“The whole purpose of finding something you like is so you can just replace it until something changes or you’re not happy with your shoes anymore,” Coulson said before Clint could protest further. “We’ll find you something with the right cushioning and support so you can stop needlessly punishing your body,” he said with a dark look that Clint didn’t recognize.

“Okay,” Clint said. “Where do we start?”

Coulson shrugged out of his jacket and flagged down one of the employees. “I like these,” he said, pulling a shoe off the shelf, “but I’m not as light on my feet as you are…” he said as the employee approached.


End file.
